


I Can Kiss Away The Pain

by kjstark



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies)
Genre: M/M, Masturbation, Nightmares, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Wet Dream, pwp or Dom/sub if you wanna look at it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-21
Updated: 2013-11-21
Packaged: 2018-01-02 06:47:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1053749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kjstark/pseuds/kjstark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Well, let me help with that," Rhodey rested his jaw on Bucky's shoulder as he spoke lowly, "This is a future good memory. It was that night, when your boyfriend, whispered to you— that he loved you," then he leaned in, quietly placing his lips above Bucky's ear "I love you," he whispered.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Can Kiss Away The Pain

**Author's Note:**

> Well, this was something, jeez. Where do I even begin?  
> First of all, I have no excuse, I wanted me some BuckyRhodey porn so I finally mustered the strength and got it done, not really with this one but with one that I plan on posting soon enough— I wrote that one and this sorta came smoothly.
> 
> This is un-beta'd because I have 0% of patience to wait for someone to correct my shit. And since english isn't my first language, it's probably written funny-ly (and oh-so gramatically bad).

"Such a good, little soldier," Rhodey had whispered as he leaned in. Seeing those light-brown eyes coming closer, Bucky parted his lips, admitting Rhodey's questing tongue. Slowly it curled into his mouth. Rather than a duel, it was a slow exploration. A tingling began low in his belly as warm hands slid beneath his shirt, caressing his chest.

Slowly his shirt was eased up his body, the intimate contact with his mouth broken just long enough for Rhodey to remove it and toss it to the floor. Then the kiss was resumed with vengeance. Long fingers caressed his stomach, following the patchy treasure trail down his abdomen. Fire shot straight down his hardening cock and his hips bucked, seeking more contact.

After the initial, typical sequence of foreplay was satisfied, Bucky took Rhodey's cock —long and thick as he'd imagined— and he worked him in earnest, using the well-practiced motions he'd privately employed since his early teens.

Rhodey, almost expertly, stroked his hardened flesh while Bucky pumped his hips, working himself into the tight grasp, matching his movements and rhythm with his partner's. Far too soon he felt his balls drawing up, tingling at the base. Frantically he increased his pace, reaching, reaching, grasping...

"Bucky," Rhodey's voice brought him back to reality. He shot upright in the bed, gasping for breath as the feeling of a well-imagined orgasm had taken over him, with his heart hammering. Bucky blinked twice and then looked at Rhodey, whom had leaned down and placed a careful hand on his shoulder, smiling easy. "Was it a nightmare?"

At that, Bucky cracked a laugh. "No, it was actually a really good dream," he replied, sighing at last because he was still out of breath. Above him, standing next to the bed, Rhodey was grinning.

"Really?" He asked, devilish smile growing wider.

Bucky sat on the bed, sweat-soaked sheets sticking to his covered lower half. "Yes," he said, biting his lower lip, looking down at his still-painfully-hard cock, visible through the white fabric.

Rhodey followed Bucky's eyes like he followed orders. "Can you tell me?" Asked Rhodey with a polite tone. He sat on the small couch in the corner of the bedroom, and Bucky realized he was wearing his blue dress-uniform. His mouth watered up just at the sight.

"Get here," Bucky said, dead-panning the spot next to him in the bed.

"I can't," he said flatly, shifting in his seat and stretching an arm around the headboard of the couch. "I've got a meeting in about half-hour, and I can't get this uniform dirty," he explained. "Please tell me, though, I wanna have something to think about in the meeting," he asked, blinking slowly as he rose his eyebrows.

Bucky breathed in heavily. Incredibly aroused and embarrassed at the same time. Slowly, he started remembering his dream. "We'd just got back from a mission, beaten up like hell—," Bucky made a face and then he looked back at Rhodey, who serenely looked back at him, "and you started brushing my hair, and then your hand rolled down my back, rubbing my spine with your thumb," Bucky spoke slowly while Rhodey pressed his lips together and held his breath, flames running right to his groin. Bucky continued, "then you started kissing my neck, sucking it, leaving traces, marking me," and Rhodey swallowed, Bucky never taking his eyes away from him. "And then you started giving me orders, 'go there, sit here, do this, say that', and I— obeyed, and then it was all gentle and slow and—," Bucky's voice was shaking and he was desperately fighting the urge to grab himself and get some relieve. And Rhodey was sitting in front of him, doing nothing but staring him down, light-brown eyes turning green with lust, and licking his lips as Bucky spoke. He looked down again to his hard member, desperately craving attention.

"Do it," Rhodey said suddenly, his voice sounded heavier, hoarse. Bucky raised his head to frown at the airmen sitting across the room. "Touch yourself," he commanded, voice low but clear this time. And how does Bucky ever say no to that?

He laid back in the darkened privacy of the bedroom, imagining his fingers brushing dark nipples, exciting them to rigid points, then moving downward to wrap around a cock that long and hard, in proportion with Rhodey's body. It'd fit so well in his hand, or his mouth.

In his fantasy he took that hard length experimentally between his lips, remembering what it was like to bury his nose in wiry pubic hair and inhale deeply of musky male scent. In lieu of Rhodey's cock, he stuck a finger in his mouth —Rhodey suppressed a groan from the couch, wearing off every ounce of his well-built self strength—, stroking it with his tongue, gratified at the imagined moans it would pull from Rhodey, carefully aware of every noise reality-Rhodey made — or tried not to make, in the room.

He paused to fully remove the annoying sheets from his naked body, then returned his hand to his hard flesh, stroking rhythmically, while he mentally licked and sucked Rhodey. Up and down his hand moved, faster and tighter, his breathing reduced to quick, harsh pants. His other hand reached beneath his balls, applying pressure to just the right spot. "Rhodey!" He moaned as muscles clenched, held, and then released, milky semen splattering his chest. Still griping his cock, he collapsed back on the bed, panting.

A couple of minutes later he felt wet lips brushing his forehead, "I have to go," Rhodey said, inches away from his face. He took messy hair out of Bucky's face and rubbed his thumb on his cheek, "I look forward to make that dream come true sometime," and he kissed him lightly.

Bucky stayed there, looking at the dark ceiling. And feeling sleepy, sedated, and also incredibly vulnerable, he fell asleep.

 

* * *

 

"No, please!" The man screamed at Bucky, kneeling in front of him, protectively opening his hand. "I have a daughter, she needs her papa!" But Bucky didn't listen, wasn't programmed to, so he took the man's shaking body by his neck and squeezed it until all there was left was blood and silence.

Bloody, dismembered bodies laid all over the dusty floor, all sightless faces looking at nothing, faces Bucky couldn't recognize now. Faces that haunted Bucky in his worst nightmares.

And then there was a shadow, slowly taking shape of a board, tall man, and Bucky swallowed and fixed his gun up, pointing at the stranger's blurry figure. And there was a very familiar face, horrified at the mess Bucky had done. Bucky drew his gun down and started crying.

"It's not what you think, Rhodey!"

"You disgusting monster!" He screamed at him, eyes flaming with anger. Then Rhodey knelt to the lifeless body of a blonde woman, Bucky'd driven a knife through her stomach and watched her bleed to death. Rhodey grabbed her and shook her but she was long gone, then he stood up, hands filled with blood he didn't spill, heart full of burdens that weren't his. Bucky shook his head "How could you do this?" He asked, voice trembling "I trusted you!" Rhodey yelled, shaking him, but Bucky was speechless, heartbroken— wrecked. Rhodey was looking at him with regretful and disappointed eyes.

"I'd never hurt you," Bucky simply said instead, leaning closer to Rhodey. "I swear," he muttered, voice shattering.

"It's too late for that," Rhodey whispered, and then he coughed and they both looked down. Bucky's pocket knife stuck in Rhodey's ribs, piercing through his flesh. Then Rhodey started spitting blood and fell into Bucky's arms.

"No, no, no," Bucky said aloud, catching Rhodey as he fell, slowly dying in Bucky's arms. Leaving him with the one burden he could not bare.

"Bucky," he whispered once, then again, then again.

And suddenly it was all bright whiteness and Bucky wasn't in a dark room of dead bodies anymore. "Rhodey?" He called. And then he was flying across the blue sky. He looked up and saw Rhodey's shining faceplate, the suit tightly grabbing Bucky by the waist.

They landed on a deserted island and it wasn't clear skies anymore, it was starred night. And Rhodey was lying him down on beach sand and making him go to heaven with simple moves, with simple words. And then he was saying "Come to me. You're here, you're home. _You are safe_."

Bucky slowly opened his eyes to look at the dark brown walls of his shared bedroom. Light brushes of warm breath at the curve of his neck and shoulder. Bucky breathed in, surprised at the fact that it wasn't hard. "How—? Did you do that?" Bucky asked, frowning.

"Did what?" Rhodey asked, kissing Bucky's back.

"Pulled me out of my nightmare," Bucky said, turning his body to face Rhodey. Rhodey bit his bottom lip and brushed Bucky's hair out of his face.

"Want to talk about it?" He asked, eyes fixed on his steadily.

"There's nothing to talk about," Bucky said, shaking his head then he turned again to give Rhodey his back. "It's like I didn't have any good memories, just awfully bad ones," Bucky spat and Rhodey wrapped his arms around him, tugging him tightly.

"Well, let me help with that," Rhodey rested his jaw on Bucky's shoulder as he spoke lowly, "This is a future good memory. It was that night, when your boyfriend, whispered to you— that he loved you," then he leaned in, quietly placing his lips above Bucky's ear " _I love you,_ " he whispered, and then he dropped a kiss to Bucky's cheek. Rhodey stood like that for a moment, enjoying the way he'd made Bucky smile widely. "Look at me for a second, Bucky," and he turned "who you are is not what you did. What you decide to do with the guilt you carry is what defines you. Whether to become a better man or to regret your very survival. Learn from the misfortunes destiny threw at your path or decide to let you life pass by you. Move on, I don't know how many times I'll have to tell you that you are a good man, but I'll say it every time you need to hear it. You are a good man. You lost your balance on a tightrope, it's never too late to get it back.".

And write it down with ink, that night Bucky promised he'd be able to believe that, one day. 

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry not sorry?  
> PS. You got bonus points if you found the hidden Taylor Swift lyrics in there *wink wink*


End file.
